


Each Individual Raindrop

by Shimegami



Category: Free!
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Alternate Universe - Never Met, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dream Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, One Shot Collection, Visions in dreams, what are other characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 22:51:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14482935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shimegami/pseuds/Shimegami
Summary: If you could slow time enough to look into one, you'd see the whole universe mirrored back at you.[MakoHaru one-shot collection, aka shit I spew when I should actually be writing something else, go me.  Up First:  Haru only knows him first as -green-.  Dream-Soulmate!AU.]





	Each Individual Raindrop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who remembers that MakoHaru mook, huh?

While he was growing up, Haru had no idea he was one of the fabled “less than one percent” of humans who had a Soulmate.

All he knew, what he assumed was normal for everyone, was that he shared his dreams with Green.

A bright, vivid, living Green that would appear in his dreams, wrapping him in warmth that felt like the color was smiling. It didn't make much sense, but then neither did dreams in general.

They usually shared Haru's dreams, since it was rare for Haru to go to sleep and have the Green waiting for him. It appeared sometime after, making his dreams go from rapidly-forgotten illusions to semi-lucid encounters. From the storms of nightmares to the calm bays of mundane life dreams, Green was there.

Since they were normally in Haru's dreams, the dreamscape was his – photorealistic scenery that jumped and skipped about when he took his eyes off it, water never far, and usually serenely quiet. Sometimes, though, he found himself in the essence of the Green – landscapes painted like Impressionist paintings with over-saturated colors, always swirling and changing with Green's feelings. Haru could reach out and dip his fingers into it, sometimes, causing the colors to shift and melt around him, as if Green was shifting to accommodate Haru into his mind.

Green was a “he”, or at least Haru thought so. He wasn't really quite sure what Green _was_ , just that he was there, a second voyager through the unconscious with Haru. He knew they must talk, too – he had vague impressions of words, phrases, but such things faded with the morning light. But as for what he really was...? Perhaps Haru was just crazy, or very good with imaginary friends.

In sixth grade, he received the answer to his questions.

It was in the middle of health classes, in the segment about mental health. The teacher had opened to the newest chapter with a smile, the rest of the glass tittering excitedly as Haru stared out the window. He didn't know why they were so excited about the new chapter – what could be interesting about sixth grade Health?

He learned a moment later, when the teacher began the lesson.

“All right, today we're going to talk about the special miracle of humanity, sharing dreams!”

Haru looked at the teacher at that, an uncomfortable feeling prickling down his spine. She stood up, beginning to write out words on the chalkboard.

Soulmates. Dream-sharing. The unexplained miracle.

“This phenomenon is rare,” the teacher spoke as she continued writing words onto the board, soft clacks of the chalk the only noise besides her voice as the class paid rapt attention. “It's been recorded in less than one percent of the human population at any given time. Basically, two people will essentially 'share' dreams, being able to connect on a mental level.”

She turned to put the book down on the table, giving a small smile towards the class. “Of course, since the pairs can be born into anywhere in the world, it's not common for them to meet, either. If they do manage to find each other, though, the mental connection can strengthen into something akin to telepathy, even while awake. Of course, this requires proximity and a good relationship to do so, and has rarely been studied. But the dream-sharing phenomenon will always remain with the two linked, until death.”

The class was filled with excited whispers as the kids eagerly discussed how romantic it would be to have a Soulmate, to share dreams. Wouldn't it be great if it happened to them? The teacher smiled indulgently before gently correcting their assumptions – you were born with your link. If they didn't have one by now, they likely never would.

Haru remained frozen, staring straight ahead even through the rest of the class's groans and disappointed whines flowed around him, the teacher's voice fading into just so much staccato noise in the background as Haru processed what he learned.

He...shared his dreams with Green. He had a Soulmate.

That meant Green existed, somewhere in the world, as a real person. Someone Haru could meet. Someone destiny decided to be Haru's, before either of them could even comprehend the idea of _souls_ and _love_.

Haru...didn't know what to think about it.

The thoughts, incessant wondering about his supposed Soulmate and what it meant for the both of them, consumed Haru for the rest of the day, destroying what minor interest he even had in paying attention to school. It distracted him enough that even the teachers noticed, and at least two asked if he was all right.

He didn't tell them. Nor did he tell his parents when he got home that afternoon and they asked him what was wrong, having been contacted by the aforementioned teachers. It felt too...private to share, too personal, even to family. Green was _his_ , his secret, his Soulmate, and even the thought of revealing his existence made Haru's thoughts seize with jealousy. He didn't want that warmth and _life_ to go to anyone else.

Green surely had his own family, his own life, far beyond Haru's reach, wherever he was. It was likely he'd never get to meet his Soulmate in the flesh. So, this one little part, he wanted to keep to himself. A single fragment, only for Haru.

Besides, the teacher had said that people discovered with Soulmates were often asked to participate in researches, so that science could better understand the phenomenon, and that just sounded like a bothersome mess.

That night, he had one of the most distressing dreams of his life.

He was lost, he was alone, as a storm flowed like darkness around him, obscuring his vision with clouds that should rightfully be thousands of miles overhead, but swirled around his arms and legs nevertheless. The rain was cold, but Haru couldn't actually feel the water, not even for that small comfort – just the striking drops in precision detail and the freezing aftermath.

He felt, more than noticed, Green appearing. A concern, a worry flowing into the storm, before warmth surrounded him like a bubble, and he was holding a green umbrella suddenly. A feeling like his hand is being held, and he knew Green was probably smiling.

He saw flashes of a face, hair, hands, all in disjointed fragments, but they slide out of his mind as quickly as they had came. He couldn't hold onto an image of Green any more than he could hold his bathwater cupped between his hands.

He stared at the impression of Green's face, trying to desperately discern something, anything, about this person who fit so perfectly with Haru's own soul.

 _Who are you?_ He pleaded desperately with the warm sensation, reaching out to grab some impression, _any_ impression. _Where are you? What's your name?_

A feeling of his hand being grabbed between two others, warm, large, encompassing. The clouds swirled around him into white, and for a moment he thought he saw a face, gentle smile like the sun parting the clouds, lips moving with a name, but it fell onto Haru's ears as nothing more than raindrops, like ocean waves rushing past, and he couldn't grasp it.

A shock of thunder woke Haru with a gasp, instinctively reaching out with his hand to hold onto that vivid _life_ before it faded, and he was left staring at the ceiling and his hand raised towards it, the streetlight outside filtering through the rain sliding down his window. There was nothing but the ink blue of storm-dappled night, the only sound the patter of rain and his own breath, fast and strained.

He was alone again.

Pulling the blanket over his head, Haru curled on his side and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't dream again that night.

* * *

 

He never found Green, in the end. They shared dreams as always, but no matter how hard he tried, his waking mind refused to let him remember. Green seemed to understand his intent, bright presence tinged with melancholy, but Haru always woke with the feeling of promises whispered in his ear.

He went through the rest of middle school and high school listlessly, not really knowing where he was going or what he wanted of life. During that time, he matured into an adult, at some point – he was still not really sure when it happened, only that he looked in the mirror one day and was rather struck about how old he looked. He looked like a harsher version of his mother, with a face made of delicate but strong lines and a mouth already more prone than frowning than smiling. 'Resting bitch face', Nagisa had giggled at him once. 'But we all know you're smiling inside Haru-chan!'

He had stared at his reflection then, blue gaze unreadable to even himself, and wondered if he ever really smiled, inside or out.

He probably did with Green, if he thought about it. Even in the darkest times, Green was a gentle light to look forward to when his legs were lead and his spirits even heavier.

Though he hadn't noticed himself maturing – wondered if he even had at all, to be honest, he certainly didn't feel like an adult – he noticed Green. They must be around the same age, because as the years passed, the simple bright vividness he'd noticed became richer, nuanced. What before had been just a solid color, like streaks of a preschooler's paint, now became a dappled fantasy of greenery, giving away to the feelings of sunlight dappled through forest leaves, the whisper of wind over sea grass, or the softness of moss under his feet. It reminded him of a tree – solid, strong, but a shelter for so many. Certainly a shelter for Haru, at least.

He still wanted to meet him, more than anything. Even if he had no idea what to do, or what would come out of it. But if for even once, he could feel that warmth in person, Haru thought that would be fine.

Perhaps, just from being fascinated by all the different shades of _green_ he didn't know could exist, he eventually ended up on an artistic path. He'd more or less just let his teachers push him along, but to be honest Haru didn't really mind, and so he'd ended up at a little liberal arts university in the art department.

There was something meditative about art, about the smell of paint and clay and pencil shavings. He could lose himself for hours in front of canvases, dabbing blobs of acrylics and oils until images formed.

He got praised the most for his landscapes. His technique for water was 'masterful', they said – as if Haru would let himself do any _less_ for water – and his use of color for his greenery was 'alive' and 'vivid' and all sorts of descriptions usually leveled at actual plants instead of paintings.

Haru wondered what they would think if they knew it wasn't his own soul so rich to produce such living landscapes, but Green's. If Green didn't exist, Haru didn't think his artistic grasp of plant life would be so masterful.

His life wasn't all that bad, he thought. His parents didn't object to art, his situation was stable, and Haru couldn't say he was _unhappy_ or _discontent_.

Still, sometimes, when the sunlight shone just right through his studio window, Haru would stare at the urban world beyond his window, and wish it were just a little more green.

* * *

 

Well, Haru thinks grumpily, he could certainly deal with it being more green _now_.

The sudden thunderstorm had forced him into the nearest building for shelter, since his latest painting and all his sketchbooks are tucked under his arm. Even if Haru normally appreciates the rain, he doesn't appreciate all his hard work potentially being washed down an _actual_ drain, and so he's forced to wait out the downpour.

He turns to see just where he ended up – he walks through this section of campus to get to his studio from his apartment, but he's never paid attention to which buildings they actually are.

It's the university library, as it turns out. Shelves and shelves of books block his lines of view, with glimpses of tables and overstuffed armchairs in-between. Haru's never been much of a reader, but he does admit the atmosphere is quite calming.

It feels oddly empty – even the front desk is abandoned, and he can't hear the faint rustles of reading or studying. It doesn't seem like anyone is in here.

Well, that's fine by Haru, he supposes. He's never been one for other people anyways.

He walks through the shelves, wanting to find a good table that he can sit and sketch at. If he's going to be here a while, then he might as well apply himself. And rain was always good for his inspiration.

He finds himself in the creative literature section, Japanese classics like _The Tale of Genji_ side-by-side with Western Shakespeares and Dickens. Considering he can see labels for these books rather far away from their places, he gathers it hasn't exactly been organized in a while. The section has a good line of view to the front desk, but is otherwise tucked away. It would be a good spot, Haru thinks.

Then he rounds one of the shelves and stops. Someone _is_ here.

He's curled up in a chair facing away from Haru, but with a good view of the front. Shaggy tea-brown hair is tilted down towards a book, and Haru can see the edge of brown glasses through the bangs. Even curled up, the stranger's red plaid shoulders poke above the top of the armchair – he must be _tall_.

Haru stares as the stranger remains unaware of his presence, focused on his book. A page turns, the softly crisp noise the only sound over the faint drone of the rain.

The page turn makes Haru take a step back, wanting to find a different corner of the library so he'd be alone, but the bookshelf he's next to is on the same arm as his sketchbooks and canvas, and the corner of the canvas catches on the wooden edge, causing Haru to lose hold of one of the sketchbooks. It lands on the ground with a fluttering thump that sounds like a crack of thunder from the storm in the silence of the library. _Shit_. Now they definitely know he's here, and now he'll have to make conversation–

What Haru doesn't expect is for the stranger to _shriek_ , jumping practically out of his chair and dropping his book as he spins around to face Haru.

Haru can only stand there dumbly, staring. Well, oops?

“Oh my god, I'm _so_ sorry, you scared me! I didn't hear you at all, and I'm easily startled anyways, I'm really sorry for screaming! Oh, oh no! Um! Do you need some help? I wasn't at the front desk, I'm sorry!! Uh, the storm knocked out the school internet, so if you're here for that I'm sorry, but the computers themselves are just fine if you need a paper, and uh, did you need help finding anything? A book? Research?” The stranger babbles as he scrambles out of his chair, trying to face Haru and pick up his book and smooth down his composure all at the same time, and all it does is make his arms assume random positions like some interpretive dance as he can't commit to a single action.

It's...almost cute.

Haru decides to save the rather clumsy-seeming giant – he _is_ tall, the top of Haru's head is probably aligned with his nose at the most, Haru's eyes aligned with his collarbones – and opens his mouth. “The storm. I'm here, to wait it out.”

The stranger pauses, arms slowly lowering. “Oh! Um, well, we can certainly do that!” He laughs, a light nervous sound as he rubs the back of his neck, eyes scrunched close with embarrassment. “Um...w-would you mind? Not telling the librarians I was, uh, not...at the front desk...?”

Haru rolls his free shoulder in listless agreement. It's not like he's going to be back here anyways, it doesn't matter to him who's slacking off on what job. He kneels to pick up the dropped book, rearranging the load under his arm with a huff. Maybe he should take Rei up on that bookbag offer...

Orange and white sneakers come into his field of vision as he stands back up, and Haru frowns, tilting his head up to ask why he's suddenly in Haru's personal space – or at least glare at him a little – and he meets the stranger's eyes properly for the first time. And freezes.

All he sees is _green_.

He's distantly aware of a soft gasp, but all he can really pay attention to is that green. It's the same bright, vivid color as when he could first remember it, but also dappled and deep and so _kind_ just like–

“It's...it's you,” the stranger whispers, and Haru refocuses on his voice. “You're the ocean.”

Haru blinks, and opens his mouth, trying to find his words. He wants to know, _needs_ to know, if this is, he's really, but he's always so _bad_ with words...

“Ocean?” Haru parrots, the reaction the only thing he can think of to say. The stranger blinks, looking like he's refocusing on the real world like Haru had just seconds ago. He stares at Haru, bottom lip getting caught between his teeth.

“It's...it's how I always saw yo–I-I mean, my Soulmate. H...He's...always so calm and deep, like the ocean, like I could swim forever in him, and so _blue._..” The stranger stares at him, those too-vivid eyes searching Haru's. “I...your dreams, do you...”

“Green,” Haru blurts, because apparently one-word exclamations are all he's capable of at the moment. “It's all I could think of to call you.”

The stranger pauses for a moment, parsing Haru's words, before that _green_ widens and there's the beginnings of the smile that Haru's only had impressions of before. It's even more blinding in person.

“I..! It's really...!” the stranger, no, _Green_ starts, before bringing his hands up abortively like he'd wanted to do something but stopped himself. “I looked but never...you always asked and asked but that's all I could remember, your name never came with the morning, even if I could remember other things...”

Haru focuses on that – Green could _remember_ their conversations in the morning? Why couldn't Haru have...? – and decides to fix it. “Haru.”

A blink, a brief cloud over a meadow. Haru clarifies. “My name. Nanase Haruka. But just Haru is...better.” he trails off by the end, finding his gaze dropping slightly. Now that he's here, now that Green's standing in front of him, Haru feels like he could be shy. He's never felt shy before. But, Green meant so _much_ to him, even if Haru couldn't explain exactly how...does Green feel the same way? Was he ever...disappointed, with Haru? Is he disappointed now?

Warm hands take his free hand, wrapping around it, and Haru is twelve years old again in a dream. But when he looks up this time, the face is more than just an after-image, his smile even more vivid, and his words are clearer than anything Haru's heard before. There will be no vanishing _green_ in this storm.

Haru feels, oddly, like he's flying – even though he's never actually had a flying dream.

“Tachibana Makoto. I'm so glad to finally meet you, Soulmate. _Haru_.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll work on my chaptered fics. Eventually. Reeeeeee.


End file.
